Hillbilly Credit

Writers do what we do because we are unable to not do it. In spite of our efforts, most who write for a living can best be described with one word: broke.

But every now and then, a writer succeeds in such a large way that their work affects millions. They connect with an audience and make a great living doing it.

Paul Henning was such a writer. Never heard of Paul Henning? Even though he had unparalleled success, he remained in ...

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A Banquet Feast

The first TV dinners came from a mistake. That mistake led to a childhood of quick and easy meals.

In the early 1950s, someone at the company Swanson made 260 tons of turkey for Thanksgiving. Typically, that’s not an issue. However, in this particular instance, the 260 tons was extra turkey.

That was a problem.

According to a fascinating video on the Cheddar Explains YouTube channel, management at Swanson didn’t know what to do, so they did ...

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The Swimming Whole

Photo from the Facebook group: Memories of Crystal Springs Beach Maud Texas / Todd Prather. Date of photo is unknown.

 

In the summer, all of the kids went swimming.

We didn’t have video games or movies on demand. We had a bathing suit, a designated towel, a supervising adult, and a destination.

For those of us who grew up in southwest Arkansas, northeast Texas or northwest Louisiana, that 1970s destination was often Crystal Springs Beach.

Crystal Springs, as most of us called it, was a large lake located on Highway 67 near Maud, Texas. For decades, ...

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1980

It seemed at the time that my senior year in high school was busy – and tumultuous.

That’s because it was.

When some of my fellow 1980 classmates and I began working on plans to get together for the 40th anniversary of our graduation, memories came flooding in. Memories that had been filed away.

I pulled a stack from the grey matter file cabinet, blew off the dust, and poured over a few.

The year 1980 was the first year in my life that ...

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Retiring Rockers

“What the heck is a Doobie Brother, anyway?” My father asked.

My dad didn’t like my music.

I wasn’t going to answer his question.

“Gee, I have no idea, Pop,” I said. Lying through my teeth.

“But they’re a great band,” I responded.

“Sounds like a bunch of noise to me,” he said.

It was an argument I couldn’t win.
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Leaving The Garden Gate A Jar

The great thing about growing a lot of your own food is the ability to walk out the back door and pick it.

It doesn’t get much fresher than that.

If there’s a downside to growing a garden (we had seven garden areas this year), it’s that it seems that most of the produce comes off the vine about the same time.

So, you have a few choices.

1)   Eat a lot as fast as you can.

2)   Share with your neighbors.

3)   Share with your ...

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Measuring Up

I remember it as clearly as yesterday. There it was in my Weekly Reader: “By the year 2000, the United States and the rest of the world will be using the metric system.”

When you’re in the third grade, you typically don’t have a subscription to the Wall Street Journal, so the Weekly Reader was pretty much my go-to publication for all things current and what would be decades in the future.

And believe me, in 1970, the year 2000 sounded like ...

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The Pinball Wizards of Wal Mart

 

My hometown of Ashdown, Arkansas, had Wal Mart #17. They’ve since built a Super Center, but during my early teen years, it was a small store.

It was the early 1970s and Sam Walton still made trips to the grand openings of his new stores. He was there when ours opened, ball cap, pick up truck, and all.

But at my age, I was far more interested in what was sitting in the entrance than what was inside the store.

A pinball machine.

It ...

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Water We Do Now?

When I was a kid, things didn’t break as often as they do now. If you bought something at Sears Lawn and Garden, you needed to run over it with an 18-wheeler to render it nonfunctional.

(Insert the sound of Tim Allen here)

Such used to be the case with lawn sprinklers. Made of steel or cast iron, the lawn sprinklers of the 50s and 60s were solid for watering your yard, and for making you dance when you stepped on one ...

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A Good Ribbing

In the South, the only thing you can say that’s considered bigger fightin’ words than, “Why didn’t you put beans in your chili?” is to speak ill of dry rub on ribs.

First, let me say that I don’t fall on either side of the chili or rib fences. I can consume chili with beans just as easily as I can devour St. Louis ribs with dry rub or a rack that’s been basted.

There are plenty of other things worth fighting ...

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